


a sheep in wolf's clothing

by thesmallestdandelion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Ghoul Harry Potter, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Harry Potter-centric, Harry is raised with Juuzou, Homeless Harry Potter, Kinda, Not for long tho, basically Juuzou teaches him to steal n shit, harry gets some kool new moves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:12:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesmallestdandelion/pseuds/thesmallestdandelion
Summary: Harry has seen some strange things in his (short) lifetime, but never before has he seen anything like this.Or, Harry gets kicked out of the Dursley's, and an unlikely stranger collects him.OR Harry gets catapulted head-first into the world of ghouls at the age of 5 and deals with it surprisingly well





	a sheep in wolf's clothing

**Author's Note:**

> be gentle please, constructive criticism welcomed :)
> 
> Oh OH there's a prologue before the chapter starts be aware my dudes

 

PROLOGUE

It is a well-known theory that the universe we inhabit is not alone; that there are an infinite amount of universes, each one slightly changed from another: at every choice everyone ever has had to make, every chance happening, every event, there is a completely identical universe except from that one point in time where it splits; two merged space-time continuums blurring away from each other in one small spot.

Or, universes where the difference was made at the beginning of the continuum and the universe is in no way at all similar. Multitudes and multitudes of infinite universes; forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever.

But the story I am going to tell is not one which I am sure you have heard before. It is about the two universes which coexisted within the one place they had in common. The Planet Earth.

Now, they may seem familiar to you- often the gaps in universes stretch thin and overlap, manifesting in stories or tales of outlandish beings. These two I am sure you are familiar with: Harry Potter and Tokyo Ghoul. I would like to tell you of a separate universe from either of those, a universe with both the hidden societies of ghouls and wizards.

We start our story with a young, messy haired boy hiding from his relatives in a cupboard in Little Whinging, Surrey. All he knows of his life so far is that he is a Bad Boy, and Bad Boys do not get to come out of their cupboards, even if they don’t particularly know what they did wrong. He knows, to some extent, that his cousin behaves atrociously and doesn’t ever get punished; there is a level of awareness that his relatives are unfair in their unmitigated hatred of him. But he is only a child, and children of age 5 often have yet to learn the values of morality, and kindness (especially if they have been stuck in a cupboard for years).

The boy’s aunt screeches and shouts from behind the closed door at her husband, who bellows back in defiance “I DON’T CARE WHAT THAT MISERABLE OLD COOT SAYS, I REFUSE TO HAVE A-A-A FREAK LIKE THAT IN THIS- MY- PERFECTLY NORMAL HOUSEHOLD! I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT! TO HELL WITH THEM AND THEIR UNNATURAL WAYS- I WILL NOT HAVE IT IN MY HOUSE, I TELL YOU!”

Readers, in an alternate universe Petunia Dursley opens her mouth to stand up to her husband over the promise she made to Albus Dumbledore, but in this one she keeps it closed. She caves to her inner desire to destroy all remnants of the sister who abandoned her, and in doing so unknowingly sets a young boy on a path that will alter him forever.

END OF PROLOGUE

\--------------------

CHAPTER 1

Harry wakes up on his blanket, staring up into the draughty rafters of a derelict block of flats. He is only small, and running from his cousin all the time gave him a certain agility and ability to climb the sheerest surface when he is desperate enough. He had certainly been desperate last night- he had tried to sleep in one of the more sheltered doorways, near to the back of a shop in which the owner frequently stayed late, causing some little heat to leak out though the door.

He had only been kicked out by the Dursleys with little more than the clothes on his back and a ratty blanket for a few months, and did not know that it was a much desired spot, fought over and coveted. He had had to run for his life when the guy chasing him out of it had pulled out a knife, and would have a nasty scar down the side of his ribs when the wound healed. He had, somehow- oddly enough, without using ladders or stairs- got up onto the roof a nearby abandoned apartment building and crawled in through an open window on the top floor. The carpet was rotting and the wallpaper was mouldy where the damp had seeped through the thin walls, but Harry didn’t care. It was better than sleeping on stone, the walls providing better shelter than the doorways in the streets below.

In the morning the sun rose over the windowsill of the large dirty window, illuminating past dust and grime caked on it to rest on Harry. Harry himself was filthier than the window. On waking, he stretched and pulled aside the blanket to reveal sharp rib lines poking through his skin.

A sudden idea appeared to strike him, and he quickly pushed himself up and over to the small sink in the kitchenette. Opening the cupboard underneath it he grins silently to himself and pulls out a huge bucket half the size of him, left by whoever inhabited the apartment before him.

He shoves it into the tiny sink and turns on the cold and hot taps. Cold water empties out of them and slows to a trickle. The bucket is an eighth of the way full due to the water left over in the pipes before they were disconnected from the mains.

Harry quickly runs to the taps in the little bathroom and repeats the process. A quarter of the way full! But a quarter is still not enough. Harry looks to the door and nods, making a decision. He wraps up everything he owns in his blanket, ties it together and secures it over one shoulder and under the other so he is carrying the parcel on his back like a baby. He drags the container of water over to the door and opens it noiselessly, checking carefully around the corners.

But it doesn’t matter; the building is totally abandoned, so he pulls the water bucket down the hall to the next apartment. The door handle on this one is totally missing, so he looks through the peephole it provides him to check the second apartment. Nobody appears to be in there, but he doesn’t want to be proven wrong so he spends several more minutes looking between the water bucket and the door, trying to guess if going in the new apartment is worth it.

He cups a little water in his hands and drinks it, thinking that if the worst comes to the worst, he will not die of dehydration.

Suddenly, there is a noise from several stories down. A loud bang, possibly someone else also using the building as a place to squat; possibly some kitchen appliance falling from its place on a counter. Harry, spooked, takes once last glance at the stairwell at the end of the hall before darting through the handle-less door, dragging his water with him.

Thankfully, there is no-one in the second apartment either, and Harry is much quieter about filling up the container this time. By the time he is finished it is half full. Harry pulls an empty coke bottle out of his little bundle, still slung across his back, and refills it from the steady trickle still dripping from one of the taps, which has not fully exhausted its pipe water yet.

Glancing back to the door, Harry tows the bucket around a corner in the apartment and quickly strips from his dirty clothes. He uses the soap left in the bathroom to wash his hair and body, rinsing himself off with the water, and then using it to wash his threadbare clothes. The end result is a much cleaner, much more bedraggled-looking version of himself.

His clothes are still sopping wet, but the apartment is dry enough that his own pitiful body heat can dry the clothes, and he finds a closet with a couple of moth-eaten blankets in it that he curls up in. It proves to be the best sleep he is going to have for a while.


End file.
